The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(64)

“ … think that’s on the other side of Dushore. He’s got that outdoor shooting range on his property. If you want, I can drive you out there.”

“Yes,” Josie said. “Please.”





Forty-Three





The conversation came easier during the twenty-minute drive out to Brody Wolicki’s property. Mostly, Luke asked her questions about her family and all that had happened since they’d last seen one another. As they talked, Josie fired off a text to Noah asking him how he felt and if he’d been discharged yet. No response.

“So, you and Noah, huh?” Luke said.

“How do you know that?”

He laughed and turned the steering wheel of his truck. Josie noticed the little finger on his other hand was also permanently deformed, its tip twisting out slightly. But he didn’t seem to have any difficulty with either hand. “I just figured. You two always had your heads together. Plus, it was pretty obvious he had it bad for you.”

Josie humphed and looked out the window, watching the forest roll past. Not so much anymore, she thought.

Luke said, “I’m happy for you. Noah’s a good guy.” Then, “Here we go.”

Brody Wolicki’s driveway was barely noticeable in the brush at the side of the road, but Luke pulled in like he did it every day. He must have seen her staring at him because he said, “Like I said, he’s got an outdoor range. Lots of guys around here come over to use it.”

The truck bumped along the dirt driveway through the thick foliage all around. A small cabin came into view. It was a drab brown and its roof looked as though it had been patched many times with various materials. One wall of the structure was covered in moss. Off to the side, Josie could see another path which she assumed led to the shooting range that Luke had talked about. They got out and Luke followed her onto the small porch. She rapped on the door and waited. They stayed silent, listening for any movement inside. Another rap on the door went unanswered. With a sigh, Josie turned to step off the porch, hoping maybe Wolicki was out at the shooting range. Luke said, “No one up here locks their doors. Brody! Hey, Brody!” He twisted the doorknob and the door opened. The moment Josie turned back, the smell hit her, provoking an instant gob of vomit that shot from her stomach into her esophagus. Her hand went to her weapon even though the logical part of her brain told her whatever violence had been visited on Brody Wolicki had happened long before she and Luke arrived.

Carefully, she stepped inside, covering her mouth with the back of her forearm. Still, her eyes watered from the rancid smell. The cabin was not big. A single room encompassed both the living room and kitchen. She saw two doors in a small hallway to the right and guessed they were likely the bedroom and bathroom. It was sparsely furnished with mismatched furniture that looked like it had been bought at Good Will. An ugly teal shag carpet formed an oval in the center of the living area, between a saggy brown two-seat couch and a wood-burning stove that was now cold.

On the carpet lay what Josie guessed was Brody Wolicki’s body. It was hard to tell, though. She had only seen his driver’s license photo in the police database, and the body before her was a greasy, black, bloated facsimile of a man. Her mind was already working. Josie knew that in the first twenty-four to seventy-two hours after death, aerobic bacteria in the body used up all the oxygen inside, paving the way for the increase in anaerobic bacteria. Once the anaerobic bacteria started to proliferate in the intestinal tract, they produced foul-smelling gases which led to bloating. The bacterial bloat, as Dr. Feist sometimes called it, happened between four and ten days after death.

Brody Wolicki had been dead for some time.

Josie turned to speak to Luke but he wasn’t there. She walked back outside and found him leaning against his truck, his face pale. In his trembling hands was his phone. As she got closer, she could hear him mumbling. “Have to get out of here… have to call… have to get out… can’t stay.”

Josie reached out and touched Luke’s arm. He startled and his phone fell into the dirt at his feet. He dropped to the ground and picked it up. “Have to call,” he said. “911. Have to call 911.”

His index finger trembled as he tried to punch in his passcode. Josie felt a wave of sympathy and sadness. She knelt down next to him and put an arm across his broad shoulders. “Luke,” she said softly. “It’s okay. I’m going to call.”

Without looking at her, he said, “I can’t be here.”

She took his phone out of his hands and tucked it into his jacket pocket. She leaned in and used her fingers to turn his face so he would look at her. “Luke, it’s okay. You don’t need to do anything but wait in the truck, okay? I’m going to call 911.”

As he stumbled to his feet, Josie took out her cell phone. She dialed 911 as Luke climbed unsteadily into the driver’s seat and rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

“911, where’s your emergency?” the dispatcher answered.

Josie gave the address.

“What type of emergency are you having, ma’am?”

“There’s a dead body here. I need the police.”





Forty-Four





Within the hour, Brody Wolicki’s tiny cabin was swarmed with sheriff’s deputies and state police as well as a coroner’s van. Josie and Luke sat on Luke’s tailgate and waited while the scene was processed, answering questions whenever necessary about why they had come to Wolicki’s property. They watched men and women go in and out of the cabin, some racing out and vomiting outside the scene perimeter. Every so often the horrific smell wafted over to where they sat, and Luke would get up and pace for several minutes while Josie checked her phone and texted Noah again—still getting no response. For the fourth time, Luke sat beside her again on the tailgate, one hand scratching at his beard. It had taken time, but the color had come back into his face and he seemed more composed, for which Josie was glad. A few years back, during the case that ultimately ruined his career and sent him to prison, he had walked in on a crime scene involving his best friend. Josie hadn’t realized how deeply the experience had affected him until she saw his reaction to finding Wolicki’s body.